


It's cold outside

by BlackPrism



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Whump, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 11:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20852747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackPrism/pseuds/BlackPrism
Summary: Peter had figured out a while ago that something about the way his body worked after the bite, had changed in more ways than he initially thought.Apparently his body had decided that thermoregulation was not necessary anymore.Whumptober Day 1: Shaky Hands





	It's cold outside

Peter saw his breath form small clouds that rose in front of his face, up into the air before they disappeared. He rubbed his hands together in front of his mouth, trying to warm them in a way his pockets couldn’t.

Bad day to forget his gloves at home. Also, bad day to have no gloves to forget at home, to begin with. Peter had almost forgotten that his gloves were now in shreds, living the rest of their ripped up life somewhere in the sewers. 

Yesterday had ben wild.

That didn’t really help the fact that he was freezing now. Freezing, missing his gloves, covered in about 5 layers of clothes that barely seemed to do anything, and out in a snowstorm.

Peter had figured out a while ago that something about the way his body worked after the bite, had changed in more ways than he initially thought. Sure, he had super strength, super senses, super healing, super stickiness. 

But he seemingly adapted some very...spidery traits as well. You could practically chase him with peppermint and chestnuts, the smell alone made him gag nowadays. He had more of an appetite for meat, then for anything else, thankfully he did not become fully carnivorous like most spiders. Peter grimaced at the thought to never be able to eat doughnuts ever again.

And, apparently, his body had decided that thermoregulation was not necessary anymore. He couldn’t sweat anymore to cool down, which led to a few weird moments, like the one time Peter had collapsed while training with the Avengers on a hot summer day.

He couldn’t shiver anymore, having to wear layers over layers over layers even on a moderately warm day.

Sure, Mr. Stark had built in a heater and a cooling down function into his suit, which made patrolling, training and everything else Spiderman related a lot easier to handle on hot or cold days.

But that did not help Peter Parker, who had to rely on regular sweaters, three pairs of socks and the one good, warm winter jacket he owned. It might be slightly short around the middle nowadays, but it had kept him warm for years and it still did it’s best. 

Not like he could burden Aunt May with getting him another proper winter jacket, looking at how expensive they were. Not with how many extra shifts she had to take lately so they could pay for their everyday expenses.

And now here he was, in his too short jacket, his 4 sweaters, three pairs of socks and thick boots, walking trough too much snow and too much wind.

Peter hadn’t really planned to walk, he usually didn’t walk all the way to the tower. There where better ways to get there. Like pulling on his suit and swinging there. Or taking the train.

Well, and getting picked up by Happy, whenever the other man had enough time on his hands.

But today, well, today Happy was busy. The train was currently out of order, snow and ice having made the line Peter usually took, unavailable. And swinging in this weather was borderline suicidal. 

So Peter ended up doing the only thing he had left. Taking one of the few bus lines that drove in this weather, that would get him as close to the tower as possible and then walk.

The bus was rather warm. Outside...not so much.

Peter rubbed his hands faster, feeling them shake slightly. Not shiver, but rather protest any movements, joints stiff and creaky. He could scream. Of all the days to have no gloves, it had to be this. He could see his fingers turn blue before his very own eyes.

Not like that was enough. No. Of course, the rest of his body had to betray him as well. Still happily pumping blood through all of his body, so much close to his skin, letting precious warmth escape into the air without any way to stop it. His face and hands were completely exposed, stinging, stiff. Peter could practically see the warmth that was leeched out of him.

The rest of him was covered in clothes, but still cold. Cotton and wool did keep in a lot of warmth, but there was still enough escaping through the opening of his sleeves, his pants legs. 

“This..-ss…-ss, ju-..usst sucks..”, Peter muttered trough numb lips and a frozen jaw, the cloud that left his mouth seemed to mock him as it took more warmth away from him. Peter burrowed his numb chin deeper into the soft, high collar of one of his sweaters, wrinkling his nose at how wet it already was from all the snow.

His body was only moving on autopilot by now. He could barely feel his limbs, cold seemed to seep in through every little opening in his clothes, chasing away the warmth. There was only a flicker of warmth left, in his chest, but it was starting to grow cold too.

Peter’s mind was solely focused on the fantasy of a hot bath, warm, steaming water swallowing him whole, he barely noticed where he was until he blinked a stray snowflake out of his eye.

The sight of the tower, only a few paces away, had never been so relieving, once it appeared in front of Peter. 

He only had to get inside and he could warm up. Maybe just collapse on top of one of those hot air vents in Mr. Stark’s living room. That sounded good right now.

“Hello Peter.”

“Hey Fri..-day..” Peter stretched his face into all sorts o grimaces as soon as the warm air hit him, trying to make it cooperate enough to form at least some words.

“Peter, you’re temperature is far below the norm.”

“Yeah, no shit, I kinda noticed that…” Peter muttered as he stepped into the elevator, only to regret it immediately.

“I am contacting Mr Stark right now.”

“Friday, no!”

“You said yourself that you and I quote, ‘kinda noticed’, so you must agree with me that this definitely falls under the ‘Scrapped Knee’ Protocol.”

“Fri, please, it’s fine, I’m just a bit cold! People get cold, it’s a thing, a people thing, a people thing that happens when it’s cold outside!”

“I have contacted Mr Stark.”

Peter groaned, stretching his stiff fingers.

“You’re only doing this ‘cause I sassed you, aren’t you?”

“Why are you sassing my AI?” 

The door just had to open in exactly the same moment Peter had opened his mouth. Parker luck. Great.

Tony looked him up and down, standing in the middle of the only way out of the elevator, arms crossed over a grease-stained band t-shirt. Letting out a low whistle, Tony cocked his brow at Peter.

“Wow, Friday did tell me that you were freezing, but I didn’t expect you to have turned into an actual Spidey-pop.”

Peter wrapped his arms around himself, stepping out of the elevator, gaze lowered.

“ ‘m not that cold..” he said, before promptly sneezing.

“Uhu, that’s why your temperature is...Friday?”

“94,5°F”

“That. What she said.”

Peter only gave sheepish look, hugging himself closer. He somehow felt even colder now that he was inside. Cold and tired.

“Ok...maybe I’m a bit cold..”

Tony sighed, before grabbing Peter by the shoulder and steering him through the room. Only then did Peter noticed that Friday had brought him up to the Penthouse, instead of the lab. Great.

“Uhh..I thought we wanted to work on my webshooters?” Peter mumbled, “Not that there is anything wrong with them now, they are great, working amazingly, but I had some cool ideas that could maybe…”

“Later. First I’ve got a Spiderkid to unfreeze.” Tony smirked as Peter grimaced at the nickname. “Now sit. Wait. Good boy.”

Peter scowled from his position on the couch, watching Tony leave.

“And take off your shoes! And jacket! Don’t need snow all over the couch!”

Peter sighed, unwilling to move much, lazily fumbling with the zipper of his jacket. 

It took him a few tries, but he finally managed to open his jacket, shedding it in a wormlike motion.

The shoed were a bit of a problem though. His fingers were just cold, blue sticks, unable to properly grip his shoelaces. Peter scrunched up his nose. He was cold. Cold and tired. Why were his shoes not coming off?!

“Need some help there?”

Something soft, warm and fluffy suddenly enveloped Peter, and he felt like he was finally starting to warm up. 

“Mhhh..”

“Electric blanket. Made it myself. Pretty neat, huh?”

“Mhhhhh…”

“Now lean back and let the professional here take off those shoes.”

“Mh…”

Peter felt his shoes getting pulled off of his feet, immediately tucking his legs under himself so he could curl deeper into the soft warmth around him.

“Scoot over there, Underoos.”

Petter felt somebody push him slightly to the site. Somebody warm. Wasting no time, Peter immediately wriggled around before stretching all the way over the couch and its other inhabitant.

“Not that cold, huh?”

“Mhhhh….”

Fingers started playing with his hair. He was content and warm.

Peter just snuggled deeper into it all.

This was nice.


End file.
